Name
by IrinaWithAnI
Summary: If Draco and Harry fought alongside one another during the War and became more than friends , what happens when they meet years later and neither one has forgotten? One-shot, H/D, non-explicit slash.


Disclaimer: The characters and settings within this story are entirely the property of J.K. Rowling, and I wish not to gain any prophet nor her wrath. The italicized writing within the story is song lyrics; they are the lyrics to "Name" by Goo Goo Dolls, and once again, they are not mine.

Special Thanks: To my faithful beta-reader, even through nights of writer's blockness and insanity; thanks Oscar!

**"Name"**

Harry took a deep breath and pushed open the magnificent oak doors. A vision of beautiful serenity greeted him on the other side, all soft candlelight in floating chandeliers and an enchanted ceiling with petals of snow flowing lazily and not quite reaching the gleaming floors. Harry grinned down at an impeccably dressed Hermione on his arm and she smiled back, a content and endearing smile that Harry took to heart and returned in kind.

He turned back towards the ballroom and walked slowly inside, his date gliding beside him in perfect step. There were a hundred little round tables placed around the room, all of them lit by fairies that hovered over the crystalline centerpieces. A large area had been cleared of tables in front of the raised stage; the band was fiddling with their instruments, itching to begin the night in style.

The ballroom was beginning to fill with beautifully dressed witches and wizards, and Harry was thoroughly impressed. Over to the right stood Lavender Brown, in sparkling periwinkle blue robes that flowed around her like water; she smiled up at red-headed Seamus in his Muggle tuxedo as he pulled out a chair for her.

Nearby was Luna Lovegood, looking delightedly strange in a bright green ball-gown and flowered headdress, but this didn't seem to bother Neville Longbottom, who was flushing with pride as he discussed something with his fiancé. Harry saw her mouth formed the word "wrackspurt" and suppressed a smile, turning his attention instead to Hermione.

She had pulled out all the stops tonight, much like at the Yule Ball all those years ago. Harry smiled fondly at her in her golden Muggle spaghetti-strap dress and the sleek curls in her hair. She looked very much like the beginnings of a sunrise. He was lucky Ron had let him borrow her for this Ministry function, Harry thought. Ron himself was currently abroad on business.

"What are you smiling about, Mr. Potter?" asked Hermione with an amused tone, but she flushed pink anyway.

Harry didn't beat around the bush. "You look beautiful, 'Mione".

She ducked her head and gazed up at him through her lashes, bashful thanks written in her brown eyes. Tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow, she steered him towards the table labeled with their names. They sat down and checked out the rest of the room.

Harry looked back at Neville, thinking again how different the Neville of before the war was from the man standing a few feet away. This Neville, though still a tad goofy, was tall and muscled out, finally having grown out of the awkward adolescent stage. His face had lost a lot of the baby fat he had carried throughout school, his teeth were straighter, and there was a flash of confidence in his smile as he gazed at Luna.

Harry then looked closer at the couple and frowned. The effects of the war were still with them. Neville carried worry lines around his eyes and forehead, and there was a jagged scar along his right jaw line, where a sword had struck. Luna, though as odd in spirit as she had always been, no longer stared dreamily about her, and Harry's gaze quickly fell to her hands, which were hidden by green silk gloves. They matched her dress perfectly, but Harry knew that she wore them to hide her burnt right hand.

Hermione, apparently sensing his rapidly approaching mood swing, tapped him on the arm and pointed toward the stage. Harry followed her hand to see Tonks and Remus standing like guards behind Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic who had been appointed after the war. Tonks sported bright purple hair and black dress robes, and Remus had eyes only for her.

Hermione leaned in conspiratorially and whispered.

"Did you know they're expecting again?"

Harry's eyes widened. "Where did you hear that?"

Hermione rolled her eyes at Harry's apparent stupidity.

"Well, isn't it obvious?" she replied, but didn't elaborate further.

Harry smiled at how Hermione never changed, and thought about this new revelation. This was great news, really. Teddy Lupin would be thrilled to have a new brother or sister; he was always harping on his mum to have one. Harry smirked at the thought; Tonks always looked terrified at the thought of birthing another, but now she looked perfectly happy. They deserved that happiness.

Shacklebolt approached the magical microphone and called for everyone in the hall to find their seats.

"I'd like to welcome everyone to the Ministry's Fifth Annual Memorial Ball, in honor of those who fought valiantly in the war against Lord Voldemort, and in memory of all those who lost their lives for the cause."

The occupants of the ballroom erupted into applause. Harry clapped along with the rest of them, giving up his observations and keeping his gaze on Shacklebolt as his deep voice resonated through the room.

"I have some special announcements to make this year," he boomed and smiled. "Thanks to the resilient and creative research by our very own Hermione Granger-Weasley and Dean Thomas, we now have a cure for the extensive brain damage caused by torture during the war. Congratulations and great thanks to all your hard work. Stand up for a bow!"

Hermione blushed fiercely and rose to bow, locking eyes with Dean who stood proudly across the hall. Harry applauded loudly and secretly sighed with relief. St. Mungo's had been filled to the brim since the war ended with all the victims of torture, and their staff was stretched beyond limit. Hermione, as head researcher for the Department of Magical Injuries and Maladies, had spent the last five years searching for treatments and cures, and had finally succeeded with the help of Dean, who had become an incredibly successful Medi-Wizard.

"Of course, none of the research wouldn't have been possible without the money donated by the generous Potter War Foundation, started two years ago by Harry James Potter and contributed to extensively by the entire wizarding world."

The applause continued and Harry took his turn to bow, finally comfortable in his famous skin. He had grown accustomed to the attention over the years, and felt that at least he warranted it now by his contributions to charity.

As he sat back down, Harry felt eyes on the back of his head but resisted the urge to glance around. He was used to the eyes by now; they weren't anything new since he had entered Hogwarts all those years ago and he doubted it was anyone of importance seeking him out.

"And finally, thanks to the generous contributions by none other than Draco Malfoy," the hall grew quiet as Shacklebolt continued. "Construction on Hogwarts is finally finished and it will re-open promptly this September!"

Harry froze as the hall erupted into the loudest applause yet. He couldn't move, even though he was dimly aware that Hermione was calling his name, and that somewhere in the room, a blonde man was standing for his long-awaited recognition.

Draco Malfoy was here. For the first time since the war ended...

The war…

Harry's mind zoomed forward and backwards, searching and unmasking deeply buried memories before he could stop it. Images flooded his mind, stolen moments he never wanted to remember …but couldn't bring himself to forget.

He had been there. Through all of it. Side by side with Harry; they fought together, childhood rivalry long thrust aside for the good of the wizarding world. That world had seen dark and light join together to become more powerful than either had been alone, and shoulder to shoulder they had destroyed and created.

And created.

That part…few knew about it. Hermione, Ron, a handful of others.

Harry sat unseeingly as the Minister finished his speech and delicious food suddenly covered the tables. He could hear the world around him returning to normal, but he couldn't because he could sense those eyes again, somewhere behind him and intently watching….

Harry_…_

Harry_…_

"HARRY!"

Startled out of his reverie, Harry turned towards Hermione's concerned voice as she went to pinch his arm.

"Ouch!" he exclaimed indignantly. "What was that for?"

"You left us for a bit there, Harry," replied Hermione. "Everything alright?"

He took a deep breath and avoided her eyes.

"It's Draco, isn't it," she said without question.

Harry shrugged and struggled to appear nonchalant. "No, it hasn't been Draco for a while…."

She frowned, skepticism shining clearly in her eyes but seemed to let it go for the time being. Harry turned his attention to the food as the band started playing and Hermione tried out ways to distract him.

As she chattered with Harry about her research work, and just how exciting it was to be honored, and wasn't Harry just thrilled, Harry forced himself to pay attention and allowed her words to wash over him, effectively drowning out the panicked screaming in his mind. The music was winding up and Hermione was winding down, and all of a sudden, Harry grabbed her hand and asked her to dance.

Flushing happily, Hermione accepted his hand and lead the way onto the dance floor. The notes of a familiar song began to fill the room and Harry gathered her in his arms and began to sway.

As he looked up from her smiling face, Harry met the grey eyes he had been trying to avoid across the room, belonging to one Draco Malfoy. Draco had his arms around (presumably) Pansy Parkinson; Harry couldn't see her face but he could certainly see his.

Draco stared at him with an inscrutable expression in his eyes and Harry found that he could not look away, so mesmerized he was.

_And even though the moment passed me by,_

_I still can't turn away…_

Those eyes were like twin gathering storms on the horizon, and Harry felt like he was drowning from the resulting flood. Holding Hermione firmly by the waist and arm, he began to move quicker, feet sure that they knew what they were doing and where they were leading. His eyes remained locked on the storm, and the storm didn't move away, but kept up with the beat Harry was setting.

_Because all the dreams you never thought you'd lose,_

_Got tossed along the way…_

Draco was moving with him now, step for step, and Harry became increasingly dizzy, dizzy with the moment unfolding in front of him, dizzy with the memories of the past, and dizzy with him.

Draco fighting along side him in the atrium of the Ministry, during the early attacks waged by the Death Eaters. Draco as he dived and pushed Harry out of the way of a deadly purple jet of light, which cost him a broken leg and temporary memory loss. Harry raging and shouting in the hospital, wondering why that stupid git risked his own life for Harry's…when none of it made sense…

_And letters that you never meant to send_

_Get lost or thrown away _

Draco was still keeping up with him, spinning Pansy in time to the music and never, not once, looking away from Harry. There was almost a challenge in those eyes, a challenge Harry absolutely itched to accept and meet.

He spun Hermione away from his body and twirled her back, fitting her perfectly in the curve of his arm. She squeaked in surprise at first; she probably didn't realize Harry had learned to dance over the years (he wouldn't blame her, after the Yule Ball fiasco in fourth year). Her recovery was quick, but then she looked up at Harry with puzzlement written all over her face, until he looked down and shook his head meaningfully.

Leave it, the look said.

She bit her lip and opened her mouth to protest, as was Hermione's way, but then thought better of it as Harry took complicated steps with his feet.

_And now we're grown up orphans that never knew their names_

_We don't belong to no one, that's a shame…_

Harry thoughts swam back to the war, when he spent nearly every waking moment within touching distance of Draco Malfoy. They worked together on missions, on projects; they grew closer and no one noticed, except for Hermione, of course.

Draco was there when Harry lost control; that was the first time in years that Harry could remember ever being held.

It was hard to forget such a feeling…

_But you could hide beside me, maybe for a while_

_And I won't tell no one your name…_

_I won't tell them your name. _

No one knew, at first. It was delicious to have such a tremendous secret between two childhood enemies. It bound them even closer.

Harry thought they hid it rather well, considering being within touching distance of the blonde caused him to go temporarily insane, so strong was his desire to launch into his arms and snog him silly. The urge was unbearable; Harry had often found himself digging nails into his trouser pockets, sometimes causing rips to keep from jumping Draco in front of company.

But when company left…

_And scars are souvenirs you never lose_

_The past is never far…_

Harry gasped as he looked back up into Draco's face. They had somehow crossed the room and were dancing merely five feet away. Harry could see the tension lining Draco's neck and strong shoulders; he followed a bead of sweat down the column of his pale throat as it disappeared into the collar of his dress shirt. He blushed as he remembered what the blonde looked like when all his clothes were removed…

Harry was kissing his neck, licking and biting fiercely down the smooth throat, nipping at the collarbone until the buttons of the shirt yielded under his iron grip. He spread the shirt open and bit his lip, the sculpted chest of his once enemy exposed and lightly trembling at his touch.

He continued to kiss down the muscles of the chest until he reached just above Draco's heart. There was the white zigzagging scar that Harry had feared to see, evidence of their darker and more hateful past. He took a deep breath and ran his tongue over its pattern…

_Did you lose yourself somewhere out there?_

_Did you get to be a star?_

Draco screamed as Harry rode him gracefully, in and out, slowly and then with increasing pace and power. Harry could barely contain his own shout as he came, red and blue explosions behind his tightly shut eyes. Draco held onto his arms until he collapsed.

_And don't it make you sad to know that life is more than who we are?_

Tears were rolling down both their faces as they caught their breaths. The enormity of this moment, of their first time, hit Harry like a sudden thunderstorm.

That was the first time he had ever drowned in Draco's storm.

_We grew up way too fast_

_Now there's nothing to believe_

_Reruns all become our history…_

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione as she stopped moving.

Harry blinked, confused for a moment, and looked down to see what the problem was. He found her back to back with Pansy Parkinson, who would turn around at any moment and growl at them if she hadn't changed at all since school. And, of course, if Pansy was so close, that meant…

Harry chewed on his lip and braved his gaze upwards once more. Sure enough, Draco was still staring back, a light smirk playing at his lips. Harry wanted to wipe that smirk right off his face, he just didn't know how he wanted to do it.

Abruptly, Hermione gave a loud "hrumph" of disapproval and grabbed Pansy's arm, dragging her away from the dance floor. Harry barely realized they were gone; he didn't hear Pansy's protest or Hermione telling her to shut her trap. Instead, he was focusing on remaining upright as he found himself merely a foot away from him

_A tired song keeps playing on a tired radio_

_And I won't tell no one your name_

_I won't tell 'em your name_

The smirk slid off his face like butter and the amused look in his eyes was replaced with an intentness that Harry felt in the marrow of his bones. Draco stepped forward and reached up to brush his hand- ever so lightly_-_ through Harry's black locks.

Harry leaned into the touch and breathed in the spicy scent of Draco's cologne, and the world went dizzy again. Draco reached out and held him steady by the elbows; for this, Harry was eternally grateful.

And then they began to sway. The song was at a crescendo, growing louder and more powerful as it propelled their feet expertly across the dance floor. But the dance itself, their own creation, was slow and steady.

Harry felt the room and all its occupants melt away as he dissolved in those arms. All sound was drowned out except for the beauty of the notes …and then Draco began to _sing_:

_I think about you all the time_

_But I don't need the same_

Harry shuddered to the whisper of those words against his ear but Draco's arms around him held him strong and sure. Harry felt sure.

_It's lonely where you are_

_Come back down,_

_I won't tell 'em your name. _

The blonde's voice was soft and tremulous, the notes melodious and pleasing to Harry's ear. He looked up into Draco's eyes, the calm after the storm, and let everything, absolutely everything go.

Instead, he tightened his arms around Draco's neck and leaned in, bringing his lips within painful distance of the blonde's puckered flesh. They connected softly…and the world erupted in fierceness.

Harry saw red, green, black, and blue. He tasted the brutality in the gentleness, the hotness of Draco's tongue sliding in the caverns of his mouth, and his expectant battle with Draco's slick tongue for dominance.

Draco held on, there in the middle of a massive ballroom with all their friends, all the people who only knew them as enemies. He held on as Harry shook, and the fiery kiss robbed them both of breath and sanity as they broke apart.

The hushed silence of the room neither permeated Harry's consciousness nor garnered his attention. Their foreheads remained touching as they took rough, shallow breaths and stared into each other's eyes. A new storm was growing there, Harry saw, and he was caught within its wild twists and turns.

It felt good to drown again.

_I won't tell 'em your name. _

-------------------------------------------------Fin----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

**Author's Note**: I welcome all reviews, so bring them on!


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